Growing Up Ghostbusters
by NotHardlyCharlotte
Summary: "You brought home Asians? Why?"- A collection
1. Meeting the Twins

Alright, as vaguely promised, here is the first installment of a completely random series of one-shots that can be considered a prequel to Nature Boy.

As a general rule, this collection will range in theme, character combination, and chronological order (meaning the next one could take place when the twins are 13, 12, 9, or any age before the start of the anime). I'll update as I get ideas, so don't expect regularity (though it's me, so I doubt you expect it in the first place...). I've listed the story as complete, because I reserve the decision to end it at any time (and because I'm lazy and don't feel like changing it from in-progress when I'm done)

**Warnings:** some angst in this one, but not much else. It will range from chapter to chapter, of course

Spoilers(duh): if you haven't read the manga or seen the anime...

Quick Note: The title of this collection comes from my lovely best friend, Don't Ask Alice. Clever girl, right?

* * *

Luella tried very hard not to fidget, but she was nervous and her hands longed to smooth the nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt. They'd met her parents, Martin's, her ditzy older sister and the Lin family, behaved beautifully yet somehow this meeting had her the most on edge. As if this would decide the happiness of the boys she'd claimed the moment she'd seen them. A ridiculous idea, but still, her fingers were inching toward each couldn't, though, not while Oliver was watching her for the slightest hesitation. No need to fuel _his _uncertainty with her own.

"Aunt Lu!" She tensed at the sound of her name, releasing a little _oof_ as something hard made impact against her pelvis. "I missed you!" The words were spoken into her shirt as skinny arms wound around her waist and a face nuzzled her collarbone. _So it begins,_ she thought, and returned the embrace gently, patting down a flyaway curl.

"I missed you too, Evie dear," she returned tenderly, pulling the young girl back enough to look at her. Three months _was_ a long time, given that the girl practically lived in her home. And by the few phone calls Evie had intercepted from her mother, Luella imagined her 'niece' was ready to explode with anticipation. All she had offered in regard to the reason for her extended absence was a cagy 'it's a surprise.' Well, _two _surprises.

"How was America? Did you see the Statue of Liberty?" she inquired with her usual, bubbling excitement, balancing on the tips of toes while she bounced. The door to the library creaked open once more and Dahlia glided into the room, her thoughtful green eyes watching her knowingly. Luella knew that look, the lofty eyebrow and crooked smile. That look meant she couldn't keep a secret from the clairvoyant. She didn't know why she tried, really.

Sometimes, she hated that look.

Luella managed a fluttering chuckle through her nerves. Behind her, Eugene quietly echoed her. At the very least, Dahlia's adopted daughter hadn't noticed them yet. "The Statue of Liberty is in New York, dear. We were in California."

"Oh right. Did you see famous people then?" She had to wonder at the child's ability to seamlessly redirect her enthusiasm, all the while keeping an even rhythm.

"No, but we did visit a vineyard," she offered, giving in and wringing her hands together. It was only a matter of time before Evie noticed them, near silent and hovering behind her. Her round eyes locked onto her hands, no doubt reading their implication, and she began the search to sate her curiosity.

A pause, a heartbeat, Luella held her breath, then, "You brought home Asians? Why?"

"Evie!" she reprimanded through a laugh, turning to her best friend with a pointed look. _Parent, parent your child!_ But then, Dahlia was always a little flighty when it came to discipline.

"Why are you looking at me? It is a valid question," she hazarded behind a smirk, her accent somehow leaching the innocence from her words. Luella suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the Frenchwoman.

"Please don't call them that, dear. You'll give them a complex," she muttered futilely. Evie was too absorbed in scanning their matching faces with her coal black eyes. The boys watched her just as carefully, completely identical in the blankness of their features. It was so strange to see them that way, Luella thought. Eugene almost constantly had a smile on his face, or at least some mischief sparkling in his eyes, while his brother analyzed his surroundings carefully, all with that old man's scowl to which she'd grown accustomed.

"Sorry, Aunt Lu," the twelve year-old relented, breaking her gaze to look up at her questioningly, "They're so cute. Can I touch them?"

There was nothing to be done. Luella slapped her forehead in useless exasperation. She should've expected this, but even so, she wasn't quite prepared to handle Evie's…_eccentricities. _"Evie, they aren't…they…." She groped for words even as she fought down laughter. Oliver had already broken, his eyebrows furrowed and a confused frown quirking his lips. "Uncle Martin and I have adopted them. Their names are Eugene and Oliver," she finished anticlimactically, peaking out behind her hand with a tired, affectionate smile at her boys.

Evie followed her glance back to the twins one more time before the revelation seemed to click. "Oh! So they're my cousins!"

"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes."

"Aunt Lu, we're orphans. 'In a manner of speaking' is all we have," she replied too cheerfully, sort of dancing closer to the boys and suddenly Luella felt like crying. Evie wasn't much bigger than the twins, not much older either. Close together, Luella could see the similarities, the way they didn't look down to each other, the way they watched before they spoke. How old was Evie when she was adopted? Four, five? The twins were eight. Too young, all of them, to experience that kind of loss. That much loneliness.

"_Dr. Davis didn't mention this when he was selling the whole family thing. Do you think we'll see her often?"_ Eugene chirped in Japanese, and other than a few words she'd picked up from Dahlia's husband Luella couldn't understand. She had already decided to learn more, if in secret so she'd have a leg up on them. Until then, it seemed one more thing separating her from their tightknit world.

"_I hope not. Her effervescence is blinding," _Oliver asserted, eyeing the girl with well-disguised distaste. Luella tracked the minute narrowing of his dark blue eyes, clambering for something that would let her know what was happening. She wasn't sure how much silent appraising and muttered secrets she could take. It didn't help that Dahlia was tittering with silent mirth and notably _not _translating beside her.

"_I hate to impose, but I have lessons with Martin every Tuesday and Thursday, so you'll have to endure me,"_ Evie returned with crisp pronunciation, smile turned a little scathing. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, before narrowing into their typical icy slits. The two children had engaged in a battle of wills, one glaring, one beaming unnervingly, waiting for the other to faltered. All while Luella watched, feeling a little lost but mostly delighted that someone other than Eugene had prompted an emotional reaction from stoic Oliver.

A long minute passed, maybe two or three even, without breaking. It was the kind of confrontation that disquieted the room and yet begged for some amusement on the part of the bystander. She could feel the giggle rise in her throat at the sheer _awkwardness_ of their first interaction, but tamped it down. Oliver was slowly relaxing, and her intrusion could revert his monumental progress.

"I'm Noll," he proffered simply, punctuating his name with a nod. Respect given, respect earned. Evie's smile turned true. Luella released a heavy sigh of relief. _Good God, it's over._

Not to be outdone, the more social twin extended his hand and a beatific grin. "I'm Gene! Where'd you learn Japanese?"

"My father," she answered kindly, "he's from Kyoto. My grandparents don't speak English."

"That's where our grandma was from!"

Dahlia was the first to move. Her hand on Luella's shoulder, guiding her back one step, than another. Their input was done (as little as the clairvoyant contributed), and whatever happened among the children now was up to them. She wanted to stay, to watch them prod for similarities, but she'd had her turn with her boys for today. The bond she'd build with them would be slowly wrought and shaped. As intricate and developed and _genius_ as her children. _My children._ Their bond with Evie would be a sudden fortification, sloppy and not quite stable but enduring, built from mutual understanding and loss and _different_.

She let Dahlia pull her from the room.

* * *

Hours later, after pressing her ear to the door a number of times (much to the amusement of her husband), she no longer heard the musical lilt of Evie's unshakeable accent, nor Oliver's clipped replies, nor Eugene's tinkling laughter. Something inside of her pulsed with worry, her hand on the knob before she'd even registered the impulse._ Maternal instincts?_ She thrilled at the prospect even as her gut churned uncomfortably. The door creaked open beneath her hand.

Her worry melted, replaced by a feeling as strong as it was unidentifiable. This nameless emotion swelled and lifted and spilled from her in a restrained smile, held back because she thought maybe, irrationally, that she might cry, or laugh, or express some equally inappropriate reaction. Held back to keep the stillness and the scene.

They were asleep. All three of them. The twins were slumped together on one of the overstuffed couches by the fireplace, shoulders together and bracing each other's weight (her throat constricted), heads lulled so their inky black hair mingled. They looked so young, and then she remembered once more that they _were _young. Intelligence, developed personalities, abilities aside, they were eight years-old and they were sleepy. She stepped carefully, softly, some part of her looking out for her pseudo-niece and the other looking for the soft throw that Martin liked to cuddle while he read.

As she walked, her ankle hooked around something smooth and warm that threatened to pull her down to the floor. _Of course. _It was Evie's leg. In her distraction, she'd nearly tripped over Evie sprawled on the floor, head resting on one of the ornately embroidered pillows, face half-covered by the pages of a book. Blue leather, no title or author scrawled into the cover. Martin's book of ghost stories he'd heard and collected like jewels in a safe. Evie must have plucked it from his office, plopped down on the floor to read to them.

Something so base for children and their elders, yet she gave them the couch. Sat them above her. No pity, just a story or two. She found the throw, tucked it around her boys with gentle touch, and for the first time since they'd arrived, they didn't stir at the slightest jostling.

"They like it here," a voice said quietly, and only years of hiding her reactions from patients kept her from jumping.

Luella glanced back at her niece to see her wide, honest eyes and her sleepy smile, before drifting back to her children. _My children. _"Really?"

"Yes," Evie hummed, her breath reverberating across the pages she hadn't bothered to move, "They feel safe."

Her fingers carded through Eugene's hair. He was smiling in his sleep, turning his head into the caress. Silky and warm against her skin, so she knew he was real. Both of them were real. Hers. And they were safe. It wasn't enough to know that she could protect them, care for them. _They_ needed to know it too.

"Noll especially." Behind her, she heard the thump of the book against the floor as Evie sat up. "I don't think he's been happy in a long while."

Luella turned her gaze to the serious little man clutching the blanket between pale fingers. He wasn't smiling, but his face looked relaxed and weightless as she'd never seen it. Rosy cheeks and long lashes and pale skin and such beautiful eyes hidden behind pink-veined lids. His mouth had gone slack in his sleep and _by God _he looked so tiny. Never helpless though. Noll could carry the world alone if she let him.

"I expect he hasn't," she replied tonelessly, letting her palm settle against his cheek.

"He's happy now."

She smiled for the sake of smiling. "I am too."

* * *

Aw, cuteness and baby twins. Please forgive Evie's social ineptitude, she doesn't mean any harm.

I'm thinking the next one will have young Lin in it...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and as always, if you find glaring mistakes, I'll try to fix them!


	2. Reflection

Yay! I finally have an idea for this one! WOOT

Disclaimer: bluh don't own this or _Mulan_ bluh bluh

Spoilers (duh): if you haven't read the manga or seen the anime, I have no idea why you're reading this story...

**Warnings**: Excessive Gene-ness?

Quick note: I believe I have the twins around 13/14 here, which would make Lin (in my world) 19 or 20.

* * *

"This movie is excessively offensive."

Gene was surprised he lasted this long. He had thought for sure the chain-smoking matchmaker and song would've broken him, but no. Apparently his infallible discipline only extended as far as animated, anthropomorphized mystical creatures.

"Perhaps you're being touchy," he suggested as casually as he could manage (which was pretty damn spot on, if anyone asked) through his amusement, "Lin-san." Just in case he wasn't already on his Chinese high horse. It had been too long since he'd prodded his too-calm tutor into a rage. Today felt like one of those days. Granted, Noll would kill him later, but only after his lesson, when the much more threatening Lin had a proper outlet for unleashing his frustration. He could probably get to a safe-house before then anyway. Maybe Jacob. Or that girl from the tour, Janine or something.

"Every other sentence out of the dragon's mouth is a stereotype," Lin stated blandly, feigning disinterest but there was enough edge in his voice to almost call it arguing. Gene kept his eyes to the screen, draped impudently across one of the overstuffed couches, which, incidentally, had been shoved aside in preparation for the aforementioned lesson. The mismatched throw pillows that had been carefully stacked had spilled onto the floor while he settled into a comfortable position. Normally, Noll would count the success of his practice by how many of those pillows stayed in place. _Whoops. _

"He's cute."

Lin was either aiming his glare of distaste to the pillows_ instead_ of him, or he was actually offended by the mess. "He's also sexist. I believe he just equated hygiene to a negative habit because he considers it feminine."

"Lin-san, I think you're getting a little involved. It's just a movie." He hazarded a glance to his left, where Lin had paused in his diligent hand-wrapping to scathe a Disney movie.

"A movie that blatantly misrepresents my culture." Goodbye detachment. Gene let his lip twitch in way of victory celebration, subdued because there was always more fun to be had. And it only took thirty minutes of song and cartoon choreography to get this far. He expected this movie could get a too-loud-to-be-spoken order from his iron-control.

"Hey, I'm not making you watch it. You invaded _my_ break time with your non-existent sense of humor," he countered, letting a bit of good old fashioned pubescent deflection score a few more bonus points. His efforts were not unrewarded. Lin tugged a little more insistently at his foot-bindings (_hello_ _irony_), stretching his ankle with too much vigor. Outward signs of irritation leaking past his ocean of patience. He could sense a record coming on. Lin never broke this quickly.

"I find many faults with your reasoning," Lin ground out with the vestiges of his patience, pressing the bottoms of his feet together and stretching so he'd have an excuse to look away from Gene's _do-tell_ smirk, "You are quite aware that this particular lab is reserved for Oliver's training. Why you chose this room in the first place is beyond me."

"He doesn't start for," a cursory glance at his watch showed the youth of the hour, "another forty two minutes yet."

"_I _prepare an hour before, Eugene, as I'm sureyou have not forgotten."

Gene barely resisted playing teacher. If he even suggested that Lin was ill-prepared and cramming, the game was done. He'd pull some wisdom from his unending wealth and, well, then there'd be a lot of pouting for the rest of the day and Noll invading the Line so he could make fun of him for pouting.

"Well, I wanted the couch. It's comfy." Just for good measure, he clicked the volume steadily upward. "Ooh! The reprise is my favorite. It's always more epic."

"What are you—."

"'BE A MAN! You must be swift as a coursing river!'" Gene sang loudly, in tune if not entirely pleasant. Maybe he _should _sing off-key, but then that might be too obvious. He was going for some semblance of subtlety, after all.

Lin was not amused. "Gene, really—."

"WITH ALL THE FORCE OF A GREAT TYPHOON!"

"This is unaccep—."

"WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF A RAGING FIRE!"

"That's it."

Gene was woefully unprepared. "MYSTERIOUS AS THE DARK SIDE OF THE—!"

There was a hand over his mouth now. It took every ounce of self-control (which, all things considered, wasn't _much)_ to keep from laughing. Lin looked furious, you know, the way _Lin_ looked furious. Really his face looked slightly less passively glaring and more _actively_ glaring, and his jaw was notably clenched. The only real claim to fame in this scenario was that his grip was a little too tight to _just _be stifling his singing. There was a bit of punishment in that handhold. _I call that a victory. _

"Leave. _Now."_ Definitely subdued rage. Gene grinned beneath the hand, a bad idea in its own right but he felt the need. Lin grimaced at the obvious shift and dropped his grip in disgust, striding towards his mat with a determination that Gene imagined would be exhausting to keep up for more than twenty minutes. But that was Lin. _Exhausting._

"Fine, I surrender." Gene rolled to his feet, killing the television with an audible _click_ before nearly skipping to the door. "Just remember Lin-san…"

His teacher glanced up for a moment before he realized his repeated mistake. _Never give attention to an antagonist. It only sustains me more._

"YOU MUST BE SWIFT AS A COURSING RIVER!"

"Goodbye, Gene." He shut the door behind after him, and Gene was left to sing to the gophers scampering the hallway. He'd gotten used to the looks a _long _time ago.

"MYSTERIOUS AS THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON!"

* * *

Later that evening, Gene was greeted by a heavy book landing on his face. It was warm.

"You could've thrown it. Now I actually have to _do_ things," he quipped groggily, longing to curl into his mattress deeper for a midafternoon nap. But no. Noll _had _to be dramatic. He sat up like a weary old man and stretched. Noll was tapping his foot impatiently. _And of course he'd make me go to him. _If there was no risk of his twin fainting or worse, he'd leave him to his karmic retribution. Alas…

He didn't actually bother standing up. Rolling across the floor like a coin was much more satisfying, especially when Noll's unstifled humor peaked through the line. _You're an idiot,_ he attempted in recovery at letting it slip. Gene rolled his eyes too, which really only accomplished making him dizzy, rather than the hoped-for dismissal. Not that it would work at all on Noll.

_I'm beginning to think you're lazier than me. You could've just _spoken_ that._

_And you could've walked._

_Point taken. _Gene didn't stop rolling until he smacked into his ankles, tugging the gray slacks up just enough to get at the pasty white skin. "You need a tan, Noll." He received not but a withered glare and a none-too-gentle kick in return. He should've expected that.

"Alright, quit you're abusing me," he grumbled, gripping his leg and almost retracting his hand as it was pretty brutally shocked. Must have been a very heavy book. He felt the energy hum beneath his fingers, slowly dissipating into the air like static. Noll sighed. He let go as the last of the excess power faded from his skin in a thousand pinprick tingles.

"I know it's your nature to provoke dangerous animals, but refrain from doing so before my lessons," was the only explanation he'd offer. No matter. Gene usually expected worse. He was probably exhausted, if the strained jaggedness to his normally even posture was any indication.

"I'll do my best." The floor was pretty comfortable. Maybe he'd relocate his nap here.

Satisfied with his punishment, Noll turned on his heels to leave. "Oh, Gene?"

"Yeah?"

"If I hear a single note from _Reflection, _I won't aim so high."

Gene snorted. "Got me quakin' in my boots, Otouto."

* * *

Oh Lin-san. You'll never learn.

As per usual, let me know if there are any mistakes (someone let me know if I used Otouto correctly. I'm still iffy on my honorifics). I hope you enjoyed Gene be excessively himself!


	3. Bubbly

I decided the world needed some drunk Gene. So here's some drunk Gene. Enjoy

Spoilers (duh): if this is in hindsight, does it really spoil anything?

**Warnings:** excessive Gene-ness again, also underage alcohol consumption and mentions of casual sex

Quick Note: I'd put the twins around 15, which puts Evie at 19. Also, _italics_ in quotes will signal that they're speaking Japanese, but I think I was pretty clear

* * *

_Those dance lessons really paid off,_ Gene thought, smirking into his commandeered champagne flute while the bubble tickled his lip. There was silence on the other end of the Line, only a buzzing irritation to allude that he'd even been heard at all.

"Your brother's quite the dancer." Beside him, a pretty little bird decked out in rose and glittering crystals draped sycophantically across his arm. He couldn't remember her name, either because of the third glass of fine Spanish sparkling wine he wasn't supposed to be drinking or some weird apathetic mood, he couldn't decide. In any case he was quite inclined to ignore her at the moment. She wanted him to dance, if the way she tugged at his arm and hummed along to the string quintet was any indication, but he was too busy enjoying this rare sight, like Darwin with a new species of finch.

Noll was surprisingly graceful. Who would've thunk?

"Are _you_ any good?" she tried again, and he stifled the _not when I'm half-plastered _that threatened to escape on a hiccup. On the dance floor, Noll twirled one of the patron's daughters with an adept precision that made her periwinkle skirt float about her ankles. _Sneaky bastard, _he kept in his own head. The young girl was having quite the little fit, imagining herself to be the belle of the ball on her handsome prince's arm. If only she knew the truth…

"_Luella must be proud,"_ someone commented, Japanese familiar and yet unexpected until he glanced up to see the speaker. He wasn't very surprised at all to find Evie by his side, sheathed in a long champagne-colored dress. She had ushered his increasingly exasperated date into finding a more attentive partner and plucked the slender stemware from his fingers, taking a shallow sip of glittering golden-pink liquid. Her smirk was clearly outlined in a deep shade of maroon that made her hair seem very red. _"As long as she doesn't pick up his ulterior motive."_

"_He's a genius,"_ he affirmed, tracking Noll's shiny loafers as they cut across the dance floor in rapid turns. _"I could almost hate him for it."_

Evie hummed in agreement, downing the rest of his drink carelessly and he rolled his eyes. Were Lin present she'd have resorted to stealing his glass long ago. _"Let's count the lovesick, shall we?"_

Gene nodded eagerly and leaned against the buffet table to relish in a little slip of propriety. Across the opulent hall of this half-ancient hotel, his twin bowed deeply, ever the gentleman, to his partner as the waltz ended with a little flourish of arpeggios. Her blush was vibrant even from here, but Noll didn't linger for very long. Even as the quintet tuned for another piece, he was off to claim another lady, some willowy woman clad in a backless black dress that wasn't quite right for her. Mrs. Lancaster, he thought, one of their most avid supporters. It was a wonder why, what with the way she fawned over their resident prodigy with an unbecoming blatancy.

"_Two," _he began, wrinkling his nose as the fifty-something year-old woman let her hands drift uncomfortably low. In the back of his mind he felt a prick of disgust. He laughed ruthlessly, making sure to let some of his amusement slip. Fanning the flames, so to speak.

Noll deigned to shoot a fiery look at him as he sashayed past, cougar in arm, one that clearly read_ I don't see _you_ working._ Because that's all this was to Noll; work. Make the patrons happy, show his brilliance, his aptitude, so SPR could run another day past Martin's pocket. But these were _social_ events, not symposiums to impress the cold, unyielding realm of science, but something like charity events for the rich to falsely-philanthropically disperse their money. And as Gene so gently and daily reminded him, the intricacies of socialization were not his strong point. Even so, Noll would use what gifts he did possess to his advantage. He would dance with them long into the night, if only because then he would never have to _talk_ to them.

"_I've got six so far. I think they've formed a pity club,"_ Evie chortled, gesturing none too subtly with her head to the leftmost corner. Indeed, clustered together like a gaggle of rejected Barbie dolls were a number of his abandoned dance partners. They were whispering to each other, giggling and pointing and _God help me_ glancing his way. Any other night, he'd be perfectly content to woo them away from his stoic brother. But there was an unspoken agreement between the brothers. Gene was the charming one in the daylight hours (and practically everywhere else), and Noll could have these moments to redeem his less than cheerful personality in the ever-reproachful eyes of their mother. Plus, he was a little more than halfway shitfaced, now that the hastily imbibed alcohol had had time to ruminate in his bloodstream. He didn't think his drunken charm would go over well.

"_I could almost feel sorry for them. They think they have a chance,"_ he mused, aware that his words were just barely blending together and pretty much indifferent to the fact. Evie rolled her eyes.

"Oh baby Nature Boy," she replied in English, more to herself than him, but it threw him off just enough for her to catch his neck under her arm and bow to the force of her _unnatural _strength. She viciously and remorselessly trashed his pristinely combed hair with her fist. "You little drunkard! Uncle Martin will have your head tomorrow."

"Yea, probably," he mused, again indifferent. The sparkling wine was deliciously bubbly in his toes and his vision was swimming a bit, to make the gold and red of the ballroom dance as primly as his brother.

"Try not to upchuck on the marble," she warned almost playfully, with a hint of seriousness he didn't really appreciate. He was perfectly…perfectly _not _nauseous, thank you. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Evie was already gone, slinking through the inelegant dancers like a tigress draped in silk. She reached Noll, tapped his shoulder, and he could imagine her cheeky line—_can I cut in?—_because their ridiculous cousin liked to poke at social norms when she could. Noll relinquished Mrs. Lancaster with relish well hidden to anyone but him, and guided Evie onto the dance floor. His face was no longer the passive, plastered smile, but a condescending smirk as he guided her into the first steps.

_Idiot. We have a demonstration tomorrow for the board, _echoed in his head and he jumped a little in surprise, the way it knocked into his mind with careless force. He always forgot how _weird_ psychic shit got under the influence.

_Why do we even need a demonstration? I think you've just danced your way into every daughters' wallet. Probably into their beds too, if you smiled sweeter. _

A scoff at the back of his mind. _Don't be vulgar. _

_Don't be wasteful._ About twenty feet away, Noll nearly laughed, stuttering in his flawless steps as he twirled Evie under his arm. _And stop showing off. Really, Evie's always going to beat you at this._

That wouldn't stop him from trying. He didn't answer, rather he seemed to gather himself all the more completely, graceful to a degree Gene wasn't expecting and in his state it made him a little dizzy. Their feet were a blur, sliding across the room, effortless as if they were floating. Noll was really going all out, and Evie was giving as good as she got, and in heels no less. There was something more natural about her movements, like the slinking ease of a prowling cat. Noll's were notably more learned, though still impressive. Even so, Evie was the master.

_Come over this way,_ he urged, and to his surprise Noll, probably for curiosity (or maybe revenge in mind) guided her in his direction. Probably not his best idea, but then even Noll had no way of predicting his plan. It was a rather…impulsive one, even for him.

"May I have this dance?" he sort of slurred out, not as smoothly as he was hoping but it didn't particularly matter. The desired effect was there anyway. And Evie, bless her, understood.

She stepped back. "Certainly, good sir." A little struggle, a flash of gold-ish silk and deep black that his alcohol-muddled eyes couldn't quite follow and they were off, scooting across the dance floor with more accuracy than he really could have expected from himself in this state.

"You're ridiculous," was all the spite he'd get. Noll was probably too surprised to muster much else. It was a miracle he was still dancing, just as skillfully as before despite his…_limited_ partner.

"Let me lead. I'm taller."

"We're identical, idiot."

Gene laughed. "Whoa, I bet this looks super trippy to everyone else. If we spin fast enough, we'll really confuse them."

"I'm sure they're quite well enough perplexed." And yet he was going right along with it. Maybe because out of the corner of his eye he could see their mother, nearly surrounded by a pack of snickering woman. She was laughing behind her hand, shaking her head with mock indignation while Martin outright guffawed, so loudly it cut through the orchestra like a sour note. He was sure he'd see a hundred other faces like theirs in the ballroom but theirs were the only two that mattered. He tossed them a cheeky wink.

_Mama's boy,_ he managed to slide through the thick of alcohol to his brother. It was easier, with his hand in his like when they were lonely kids with only each other to rely on (and _that _was a sad thought if ever he'd had one. Alcohol tended to make him a little nostalgic). Noll didn't comment, but he did spin them a bit too fast for his stomach's liking, smirking mercilessly when he stumbled on the next step. All proof that Gene was completely right. Mama's boy indeed.

"You have to admit, I'm your most interesting partner of the night," he offered as a white flag, something more in Noll's comfort zone. Reestablishing his superiority, always a good play.

He snorted inelegantly. "If by interesting, you mean 'inebriated,' then I'd agree."

"I'm not drunk," Gene hiccupped, which admittedly did not support his denial very much. "You're just too sober."

"What does that even mean?"

He really couldn't say. But that wasn't for Noll to know. "Use your imagination, Otouto."

"Then I _imagine _you're drunk, _Aniki."_

"Just shut up and dance," he muttered, tightening his grip on Noll's hand and pushing at him stubbornly. "And let me lead. I'm older."

Noll pushed back, effortlessly commanding their little show of half-artistic boredom. "I'm smarter."

_Can't really argue with that one._

"Idiot scientist."

He'd still try.

* * *

I'm sorry for this, really. I can't even say what prompted it, other than a need for Gene and Naru being stupid brothers.

As always, I hope you enjoyed this adventure in the inebriated mind of Eugene and please let me know if I made an egregious mistake (like with the Aniki/Otouto, still getting used to honorifics). Thank you!


End file.
